“My story is a running journey, but at its heart, it’s a story for anyone who has experienced the harm and powerlessness that comes from not fitting into society’s expectations, anyone who has ever existed in the margins. It is a story of finding and creating your place and space.” Listen into this episode of The Appetite where Alison Mariella Désir- runner, activist, disruptor- reflects and expands on parts of her powerful, newly released book, Running While Black. Kara Bazzi, LMFT, Director of Opal’s Exercise+Sport Program, talks with Alison about belonging, creating and developing a culture of inclusion in sport, and the historical context that is often missing from the origin stories of the American distance running boom. If this is the first time you are introduced to Alison or you are already connected with her work, this episode will not disappoint!
Connect with Alison:
Alison’s previous interview on The Appetite
Connect with Opal:
Thank you to our team…
Editing by David Bazzi
Music by Aaron Davidson: https://soundcloud.com/diet75/
Sound engineering by Ayesha Ubayatilaka at Jack Straw Studios
Transcription by Rev.com
Kara Bazzi (00:00:00):
Hello and welcome to the Appetite, a podcast brought to you by Opal Food and Body Wisdom, an eating disorder treatment clinic in Seattle, Washington. The appetite is a podcast about all things food, body movement, and mental health. And my name is Kara Bazzi and I’ll be your host for today. I’m the clinical director and one of the co-founders of Opal, and today I get the honor of bringing Alison Dier back to the appetite. We interviewed her back in September of 2020. So for those of you that are new to the podcast, her interview is on episode 102 in case you’re interested in going back and listening. But since 2020, Alison has been up to a lot of things, a lot of things that are very exciting, including publishing her first book, running while Black and Alison wrapped up her book to her just this past week and we get the privilege today to talk about her book.
(00:00:57):
So just to start, for those that are new to Alison, she first and foremost, I just like to say of what a fantastic human being Alison is. She lights up any room that she walks into and brings people together in community in a profound and powerful way. She is an activist, she’s a change maker, she’s a disruptor. She has since she was young, challenged the norms. I learned in her book her love and passion and aptitude for history, and she cares deeply about mental health and that’s one of the intersections between Opal’s work and what she brings. She has two master’s degrees from Columbia University, including one a master’s of education and counseling psychology, and her background in the psychology and her personal journey with running led her to make all these changes in the running space, including writing this fantastic book. So welcome.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:01:58):
Thank you. Hello.
Kara Bazzi (00:02:00):
Hello. I feel like personally excited. I get more time with Alison. I’ve gotten to do a couple events with her and just every time I just feel like it fills my cup. So I selfishly am excited to get this time.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:02:14):
Thank you for having me.
Kara Bazzi (00:02:15):
Yeah, so Alison just finished with this book tour and she actually invited me to be moderating one of her events a couple months ago at REI in Seattle. And as a part of her tour, she starts off with reading the introduction of her book and I thought that would be a great place for us to start this recording. Given that as listeners, it’s just powerful to hear her writing and to get to hear her own voice in the writing. So I think we’ll start there.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:02:46):
Alright, here we go. Introduction. It’s 6:00 PM and I’m getting ready for a run. I add electrolytes into my water and shuffle through my drawer. I toss clothes around searching for an appropriate outfit. It’s unseasonably warm, so it might be nice to rock a sports bra and shorts, but I shake my head. I want to be seen as a runner, but I don’t want to call extra attention to myself. I settle on a bright long sleeve shirt with reflective bands, a shirt that screams I’m running, don’t shoot as I dress, I debate my route. I could head toward the trail, but then I’d pass the house with the American flag and start wondering if it’s safe. And then I’d be annoyed that white nationalists have somehow claimed the flag as if the rest of us aren’t Americans too. Oh, and that street also has the house with the oversized pickup truck.
(00:03:38):
Dammit. I tell myself to stop generalizing, but decide it’s not worth the risk or the stress. I’ll go right down the street that parallels the lake and once I hit the halfway mileage point, I’ll loop back An easy out and back. Yes, good. That’s it. The route has a pretty view of the mountains and the white woman picking up her male the other day waved at me. I run downstairs, kiss the baby on the forehead, tell my partner I’ll be back in an hour and go. The first miles of a run are always terrible for me. I applaud down Lakeview Drive, feeling heavy, my body working out the kinks. By this point I’ve started my tracking app and shared my location with my partner, a safety ritual. But is it really the likelihood that a tracking app would protect me from a white vigilante trying to kill me is tenuous at best.
(00:04:30):
Don’t go there. I tell myself, enjoy the run. Stick with the routine. The routine works. The routine keeps you safe, ensures Corey will grow up with his mama. I convinced myself this is true because I have to on my right. The peaks appear in the distance, the highest covered in snow. My mind wanders to the conversation my partner and I have been having about summiting the mountain someday. Inspired by a team of all black climbers attempting to summit Mount Everest, I drift out of the running lane, a car honks and I jump back and wave. The man inside screams a response I can’t hear. And judging by the Trump one flag on the back of his pickup, it likely wasn’t something nice. I live in a small town outside a major city with a population of 35,000. 85% of the people are white and only 2% are black.
(00:05:24):
I spend too much time negotiating my safety while running. The other day I ran down the sidewalk and a white man with a scruffy beard in a blue baseball cap and work boots was coming in the opposite direction. My app was on telling my partner where I was, which gave me some relief, but my mind kept saying, cross Alison cross. So I did. I bolted to the other side of the road, worry the entire time that a sudden move might provoke him. The man didn’t even adjust his gaze. It’s hard to know whether I’m invisible or hyper visible in these moments. I can’t know. So I play it safe. Better to assume bad intentions. This way I increase the chance that my name won’t be added to the list. The ever-growing catalog of black people harassed or killed for daring to exist for taking up space in a white world.
(00:06:18):
I act as though changing my behavior will somehow prevent me from an unprovoked racist attack. It seems both silly and essential. It’s all I have. When I go for a run, I’m not just going for a run. I am stepping outside as a black body in a white world. I am Alison Mariela, mother runner, activist wife, and I’m also a black woman forced to carry the stereotypes that whiteness has assigned to black people. I would prefer to just be me, but my country has not given me this choice. I learned from a very early age that I am never just myself in white spaces. I must be aware of how whiteness sees me. My freedom of movement, our freedom of movement is very much influenced by our collective memories of the cultural trauma inflicted on us by white supremacist nation. We carry these memories, those from centuries ago and those from last week with us, they create a hypervigilance, a hum of what can happen when we’re doing ordinary things like running.
(00:07:24):
It is a hum that increases in volume. When I read that a black person was killed by a white person, which puts me on high alert for days afterward, sometimes the worry is too great and I skip a run altogether safer inside. Other times the hum is low and moving through white spaces is routine, even mundane. But the hum is never shut off. There is no mute button except sometimes when I run. There are moments on a run when I hear only my breath and footfall, when life’s problems get shaken out and resolved over a five miler. In those moments, the world around me ceases to be any particular type of space. It becomes air and trees or buildings and traffic or nothing at all. I am just a body moving through space propelled by my own muscles and emotions, my own drive and power.
(00:08:20):
My legs at times seem to be the legs of someone else, someone in better shape than I am. Faster than I am. And yet with each stride I know it’s me. I am this runner. I am this powerful. These moments are when I feel most free. But at some point the world returns. A dog barks, a car, speeds by and I’m jolted back to the reality and the possibility of some type of harm. I often think of sociologist Elijah Anderson, seminal paper, the white space in which he talks about the overwhelmingly white landscape of the United States as a place black people can be disrespected or worse and reminded that they don’t belong. He describes the criminal stereotype, which means virtually every public encounter results in a degree of scrutiny that a normal white person would certainly not need to endure. The scrutiny, the arrests, the violence, black people encounter in the white space exists for us at all times.
(00:09:22):
Running is no different. When I started running, I was the only black person in a crowd of white people. The space was infused with white culture. That is a belief that whiteness is the norm and should be running. Also brought its unique brand of whiteness with its hierarchy of who belongs at the top, white, thin, fast people. The sports whiteness sent a message about who a runner was and it wasn’t a black woman. And yet I kept hearing how running was democratic and a sport for everybody kept getting repeated. The world’s most democratic sport, all you need are shoes just show up. It was both annoying and funny because it was clear that this message came from white runners in a white sport and inside a white country, and they had no idea what it was like to be a black body in such a climate.
(00:10:14):
Running hadn’t made space for us. So I set out to change that. I started a running club in Harlem. At first my goal was simply to have other black people to run with, but as I continued to run and evolve personally, I realized that by our very existence as black runners, we were disrupting the white narrative, carving out space for ourselves. It became my goal and purpose, my lifelong mission to welcome more black people to running. I want to make the sport more racially inclusive to make running a space where we all belong. That is the story I tell in this book. It is a story of a woman seeking a place of belonging and finding she has the power and voice to bring about change both internally and in the larger world. My story is a running journey, but at its heart it is a story for anyone who has experienced the harm and powerlessness that comes from not fitting into society’s expectations. Anyone who has ever existed in the margins, it is a story of finding and creating your place and space. My journey to finding a sense of belonging began when I started running. Running showed me change was possible. It showed me how transformative movement can be Simply put running changes lives. That is where this book begins with the story of how running saved me.
Kara Bazzi (00:11:41):
Thank you, Alison. Each time, I mean, I hope for our listeners too, just getting that sneak peek into your book, it just makes people hungry to purchase it and buy it and read it.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:11:52):
I hope so.
Kara Bazzi (00:11:53):
And I know even since the last time we connected at the REI event, there’s just been lots of experiences exposing your book, reading your book out loud, having conversations with people, gathering with a lot of people, being on lots of podcasts, all these things of having conversations, bringing your experience, your writing into public spheres. I feel curious because I know just so much has happened every week. So much happens. So just to start, if there’s a moment that you want to share that’s been particularly meaningful since the last time we connected or funny or meaningful or that stands out to you as you’ve interacted with so many people that you don’t know around this
Alison Mariella Désir (00:12:38):
Well, that in and of itself is just bananas to me that I’ve been. So my first official book event was October 6th. I was started in Minneapolis and spend time at George Floyd Square and my last event was December 13th. So that is eight weeks of traveling and meeting people, literally signing hundreds of books. And each event feels really intimate because of the level of vulnerability that I bring. And then the folks in the audience echo that. So it’s been this very intimate and emotional experience, but something that sticks out to me has nothing to do with any of that. But this woman, Jen, and I forget her last name, forgive me, but she’s a freelance writer and she wrote about me in the Seattle Times a year ago and then wrote about me again and shout out to Jen because she actually had to fight to get me included a second time. I don’t know why that’s the case, but she asked me a question that I often get, which is comparing black American runners to African runners and asking why aren’t black American runners fast like African runners? And I just was so happy with my response because I was finally able to get it right. So check out the Seattle Times. But most of all, what bothers me about that question is it makes this assumption that black people all over the world are the same.
(00:13:58):
And that is particularly, that’s a piece of white supremacy that collapses black people into one experience as if there’s no uniqueness or regional or local differences. Meanwhile, white people are allowed to have their individual cultural experiences and are rarely have ever lumped into a group. When you say something like this is how white people are, white people immediately get upset because they see themselves as individuals, and yet somebody from New York like me is supposed to have the same experience and ability as somebody in Kenya. It doesn’t even make sense. So I was particularly proud of the opportunity to share that message in a powerful way on such a big stage. And I hope it forces people to rethink how they think about black people and other marginalized folks as if we’re just one and the same.
Kara Bazzi (00:14:49):
I know that wasn’t part of book. Was that a surprising question to come as a result of your book that there would be so much interest in that or the way white people would think about Black Runners?
Alison Mariella Désir (00:15:00):
Yeah, exactly. For me, it was so obvious that, I mean, a black person in Boston has more in common with a white person in Boston than they do with an African person from Kenya. So it just seems so obvious to me. You didn’t think that, I didn’t think I had to address it, but the fact that that is a question that comes from folks having read my book was wow, I, I guess I can never be surprised with the level of ignorance of white folks around race because of they’re allowed to be that way.
Kara Bazzi (00:15:37):
Mentioning that ignorance. I think one of the things that, you talk about it pretty specifically in your book, maybe not that particular question around asking that question about African runners versus American born black runners. You do talk about in you’re doing the work chapter, you talk about Ahmed Aubrey’s murder and at the same time that was around the birth of your son Corey. And that led to that op-ed piece and outside magazine where my understanding is that’s where your work really became more brought to the larger scale.
(00:16:10):
And you talk about all the ignorance that you faced during that time and you said in that chapter quote, but it quickly became clear that even white people wanting to bring about change in the industry we’re not prepared for conversations on race. They had little to no racial awareness. They had no idea whiteness even existed, let alone that running itself was steeped in it. Honestly, they were clueless. It was as if I dropped a truth bomb and the industry was running around trying to make sense of it. And I love that imagery of just dropping that truth
Alison Mariella Désir (00:16:42):
Bomb.
Kara Bazzi (00:16:43):
And I imagine, again, in this last eight weeks, you’re getting examples after examples of that experience as well. And again, if I’m missing some of these details that I think that was around the time that then the Running Industry Diversity coalition launched
(00:17:03):
That you were a part of. And in doing the work chapter, again, you said, I had no interest in working closely with white people on issues of white supremacy. I had no interest in building deep relationships with white people that would’ve made those conversations possible. But the black woman, the group’s advisor called me, she talked about the challenge of cross-racial work, how it was hard and uncomfortable. She validated me without trying to calm me down. She let me be angry and she supported my anger. Anger is important, she said, but use it when the white people wanted to meet again. She encouraged me to join and my respect for her was the only reason I got another call. In light of that, I feel curious to hear you talk about how you’ve grown and your use of anger to do cross-racial work. And well maybe just start there using the anger and maybe how that’s been kind of demonstrated even in the last eight weeks too, because assuming that’s kind of a constant contact with that ignorance and then how you’re using your emotion in it.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:18:08):
Yeah, I think that what has changed, and actually I talk about this in the book as well, that my tolerance for people’s ignorance changes. And there are days when I wake up and I just can’t even deal with people and their ignorance and other days when I feel more capable to address it. I think throughout my tour I recognized that I was going to encounter a lot of people who were ignorant but who were curious and coming from a space of deep interest, they were showing up because they wanted to understand. So that meant that I had more tolerance for ignorance, and it sounds funny to say it that way, but I knew that I was in a position of having these really powerful connections with folks and addressing their curiosity and pushing them to continue to learn more. I think where my tolerance changes though is with institutions, right? With institutions that have a lot of power and remain ignorant and then the harm that’s done. And I can talk about something that I saw on the internet just today. Somebody sent me this. It’s really a promo video for University of Oregon, but it looks as though it’s a documentary which is harmful because that means that the intent of the film is to get more people interested in University of Oregon. So to mask it as a documentary is misleading to say the least.
Kara Bazzi (00:19:33):
I was trying to get the word with you,
Alison Mariella Désir (00:19:36):
And so to no one’s surprise, the documentary says nothing about Oregon’s policy against allowing black people to live in the state. It says nothing about the fact that Eugene did not allow black people to own property until 1957. It mentions nothing about Ted Corbett and the influence of other black people in the history of long distance running. It focuses on the quote, magic of Hayward Field and Bill Bowerman. And the idea is all of that is true, but without the fuller context, you can’t understand the true story of Eugene Bill Bowerman and long distance running history and what it does. Then I should pause and say that all of those factors, all of the racism and exclusion of Oregon contributes to the fact that Eugene, the population there is 81% white. I think only 1.4% of people identify as black. So you have this super white environment that you’re glorifying, claiming is the birth of long distance running. And undoubtedly some black kids will end up there and wonder why they don’t fit into this space because they haven’t been given the full historical present context and that is dangerous. So my anger now is directed at these institutions that one should know better, and two, if they actually had racially diverse staff who was empowered to have the conversation, things like this might look different.
Kara Bazzi (00:21:05):
Which brings me to one of the really powerful parts of your book, which is the start of the timeline of I think you do a brilliant job of filling in that more robust history of bringing in the parts that have been missing from history, especially in running. And so like you just mentioned, you talked about your experience of first being introduced to Ted Corbett, the first black man to represent the US in the Olympic marathon in 1952, and president of the New York Roadrunners Club and New York Pioneer Club of course hadn’t heard of him before. And then you did that deep dive into all that history and folks and experiences that haven’t been highlighted like the white counterparts. You’re right, we were part of this and didn’t even know it. So yes, I’d love to hear you again talk about why you decided then to put that timeline or if there’s anything else you want to share about that, the timeline you put in the beginning of your book.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:22:02):
Yeah, the timeline is my greatest accomplishment. I think the book is awesome, but my hope is that this timeline continues to inform people’s understanding of long distance running because we often hear about achievements in a space that are disconnected from the historical context. So going back to that idea of Eugene, we hear about the magic of Hayward and all of the beautiful things that have happened on University of Oregon’s campus without recognizing that the history of your University of Oregon for more of its history than not has been a place that did not allow black people to be there. So when you get this one side of the story, what you feel as a black person is a disconnection. So with the historical context, I wanted all people, white, black, et cetera, to recognize that what’s happening within the history of running is impacted by what’s happening in the history of the United States and the history of the United States has always been a history of white supremacy and racism and patriarchy, et cetera, et cetera.
(00:23:06):
So comparing dates like for example, 1896, the first modern Olympics with 1896, the year of Plessy versus Ferguson, which literally institutionalized racism and led to Jim Crow segregation. Then you start to understand, oh, that of course impacted how black people were showing up in running and in the world. So while we were there, there were limitations and there was harm associated with just showing up, not being able to walk in the front door, et cetera. The same is true for the Boston Marathon, which is one of the oldest, if not the oldest marathons in the country founded in 1897. Well, it was founded in that same time period of black people being seen as less than and being prohibited from moving freely through space. So we cannot look at the Boston Marathon without looking at how the Boston Marathon, the BAA has been complicit with upholding racism and white supremacy.
Kara Bazzi (00:24:07):
And then you make a lot of those connections again to the history and then the sense of belonging. Exactly.
(00:24:16):
I want to turn towards the sense of belonging aspect, and you speak about your personal experiences throughout the book, especially in part one about being the only or one of few black people in your communities, whether that was school, neighborhood running spaces, and you vulnerably share how that impacted your deep sense of belonging. And you write, I read somewhere years later that fitting in is shaping yourself to try to match the space or people around you, but belonging is being yourself, being accepted for yourself regardless of the space you’re in or the people you are with. Belonging is being embraced and valued for your authentic self. And while our need for belonging is relatable to everyone, you as a black girl, as a woman and white spaces talk about the moments of true belonging as being only pockets of time or stolen experiences. And again, that language, the use of that language is really powerful. And I, I think I asked you this at the REA event too, but how you would describe your sense of belonging now, and even as you’re talking about, as you’re revealing more of the history that hasn’t been told both for black people and white people in any race, but how has that impacted your sense of belonging as that’s been revealed and people are aware and then you’re interacting, and I don’t know just how you describe what that’s been like.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:25:45):
Well, one thing that I want to back up and say, and I’m actually, this is something that I’m working on another research project for 2023, but looking at the norms of white culture, and this goes back to the ignorance that white people often most of the time think that the world is just the world and this is just the default. But the way that the United States and the world works, it’s rooted in norms of whiteness and that means that whiteness is the standard. That means that one of the simplest examples is comparing what happens at a white church versus what happens at a black church. And I experienced some of this in my book tour because at a white church, folks are very composed. It’s more of a cognitive experience. People are clapping politely. I experienced that when I was at a book tour and there was a mostly white audience, and then in a black church, it’s a far more emotional experience.
(00:26:36):
People are calling out, there’s call and response. I experienced that when it was a mostly black audience and people were engaging and saying yes, calling and letting me know from a place of respect that they felt me. So the norms of white culture are how the world has been normed. So acting in that particular way is seen as acting respectful as showing your authentic self. Therefore, if you’re a black person who comes from this tradition of having more of an emotional call and response experience, you show up in a white space and you immediately realize like, oh wow, I can’t do that here. I have to tone myself down. I have to make myself fit it within this context. So that’s a clear way of explaining what I mean. Of course I’m talking an overall, not all black people have that same shared experience, but so for me, my sense of belonging, a lot of it had to do with how I showed up physically.
(00:27:34):
So recognizing that I was the only one meant to me, wow, okay, I don’t belong here. I’m thinking about my hair and how I would care for my hair in these spaces, what language I would use trying to shape myself so that I wouldn’t stand out any more than I already was. This tension between being invisible and hyper visible in white spaces. I would say that now, not just as a result of my book, but also as a result of my racial identity development and recognizing that I am going to be my authentic self no matter this space that I no longer feel, the harm that I have felt in the past doesn’t penetrate right. So I recognize that I’m walking into a white space and that the expectation is that I act a certain way and I actively push back and say I’m just going to be who I
Alison Mariella Désir (00:28:24):
Am.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:28:25):
But that is a privilege that I have. And if you think about my trans friends or you think about my disabled friends who we all face danger, but I’ll go back to trans friends, I went to TRE, which takes place in Austin, Texas. My friend is a trans woman. And for her, she has to make herself small because there are laws that will pick her up and put her in prison. So recognizing the privilege that I have, this is all relational privilege. We have to choose our battles. There are other times when I walk into a police department, you better believe I’m going to be the smallest version of myself because I have too much to risk to end up in prison just for being myself. So it is absolutely still in negotiation, but I feel more equipped at this stage in my life to be myself regardless of the circumstances.
Kara Bazzi (00:29:19):
This was a question that I felt curious about. I didn’t ask you this in RE as a follow-up to this, but I felt curious and I want to talk about in this space, we talk about it quite a bit at opal of part of the hustling for your worth. And that comes from a lot of toxic cultural messages that comes from all these systemic oppressive factors that we have to achieve our worth, that we have to hustle for it. And then as a black woman, that factor of having to hustle for worth to be seen as valuable as the white counterpart, and yet you are. So my curiosity, you also are a mover and a shaker. It seems authentically as somebody who has a lot that you want to do, a lot that you’re passionate about, that you are driven for and that you achieve. So I guess I felt curious to hear you talk, just hear you respond to how that discernment of hustling for your worth versus through your authentic drive or your authentic coming from your own personhood. And maybe that’s not even a good question, but
Alison Mariella Désir (00:30:30):
No, it is a good question and you asked a version of it last time and I remember it being really like an aha moment for me then too. But what I would say, well, one, I’ve been thinking about this in relation to getting paid, for example, and I’ve sort of shifted the language in that sense. People say, know your worth, ask for your worth. And what I realized is that my worth is not tied to capitalism. That is a faulty idea. So nobody can actually pay me my worth because I’m worth a bajillion dollars. So instead, when I’m looking at being paid, I’m being paid for my knowledge, for my experience, for my availability, for my interest. And so that is my number. And therefore if you say, no, it’s not that you’re attacking my worthiness, you’re just not paying me what my rate is.
(00:31:20):
So changing that language has helped me remove the emotion from it. I think emotion is wonderful, but this emotional connection that we have to ourself and money is again, faulty and comes from this capitalist idea that our worth can be measured. So that’s one piece of it. And then the other piece of that is that I recognize, yes, a feature of capitalism also is this hustle and always doing something, but that is also just who I am as a person. And so I do move between. There are times when I recognize that I need to rest and that I’m doing something because I have to pay a bill or I have to get something done. And that is a frustration of mine, but I do live my life according to my values, and that means that for somebody else, they might think that I’m doing too much all the time or that I don’t love myself or whatever the thing is. But I know that I am just a creative thinker. I always have at least a hundred ideas in my brain that I want to do at the same time. And I get so much fulfillment from connecting people and learning things, and that’s where I thrive.
Kara Bazzi (00:32:37):
And
Alison Mariella Désir (00:32:37):
It’s so
Kara Bazzi (00:32:38):
Obvious,
Alison Mariella Désir (00:32:39):
Yeah, it doesn’t mean that I don’t need rest right now, I’m on this month long break, but you better believe when somebody sends me something really exciting, I’m like, whoa, I’m doing that right now. And I am in control of myself so nobody can tell me the harm. I’m very be different if I was just as many people do. Unfortunately in this world, many people walk around without the ability to reflect. Again, that is how capitalism intends it. But I’m very self-reflective and this is just what I enjoy doing.
Kara Bazzi (00:33:11):
I love it. I relate to that a lot of, when I say my yeses, if it aligns with something that I really care about and I’m passionate about and brings me life, even if there is a busyness aspect to it, that’s going to be one of my filters for sure, including the times that you’ve asked me to be a part of events with you. Well, that would be a good transition into culture because I think, again, I can see it in your face, in your demeanor at these events that you are in, your element that you are. It comes from such a place of joy. It’s just actually quite, it actually kind of makes me tearful. Thank you. It’s really powerful to see.
(00:33:51):
So it’s fun to hear you talk about it in your book, but then to see it in play. So I’ll start with what you say in your book, you bring the reader through the experience of founding and developing Harlem Run, which is in New York, and the intentional way you created culture on your team. You wrote, I thought, I’ve created a space where black people feel comfortable, a place people want to come to, a place where people are forming connections and friendships, a black space, a place for us. These runners would never have to wonder if running was for them because we’d created a space that was, and I mean, I’d love for you to share more with the listeners about what you see are those qualities of the inclusive community and how you foster those things.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:34:35):
I want to say an extension of that is that with the work that I’m doing, I hope that for my son, we moved across the country for him and for us, but really for him that my son now, he literally sees my face on tv, which is so awesome. My son, I don’t want him to ever wonder if he belongs. He’ll just know it intuitively. He’ll know it as his birthright. That doesn’t mean that he will not know history. He will recognize where we’ve come from in the context so that he can be better informed. But he’ll just be like, what do you mean black people don’t do this? Or what do you mean this isn’t a space for us? So building community is one of the most difficult things. And you’ve never built a community. You’re always building a community. And this doesn’t mean, I also want to make sure that folks understand that it doesn’t mean that any community that I’ve built is not without problems, that there aren’t times where people don’t feel a sense of belonging.
(00:35:28):
That is all part of it. But for me, I think the most important piece is just that everybody who comes feels like they’re seen. And I can’t tell you the number of times I used to show up to running groups or even events or anything at all showing up to a space and nobody talks to you or nobody looks at you. And that gets me every time. Right now I’m staying in a hotel because we had a flood in our house and I was in the laundry room of the hotel, and three or four people came in and just did their laundry, didn’t say anything. And it’s like, am I invisible? So I never want anybody to not be seen. So I started every workout by having introductions. At first it was, we all went around a circle and said our name and the question of the day.
(00:36:14):
And now that the group is so big, people turn to each other and share something about themselves. Also, now I know I’m not there to do it, but leadership team will share sort of the rules that we go by and that there are no headphones because we’re here. You show up in a group to be with the group if you want to listen to headphones, go run on your own. So also there are sounds of the street that some are dangerous, like, oh, there’s a car coming. We want to let you know that some are. The culture of Harlem and New York is people are going to talk to you on the street, and that’s something that you don’t want to miss. We talk about how we run two by two on the sidewalk. There are many groups that run in the street and that is their prerogative.
(00:36:57):
But for me, I always believe that we are not here, we are here as part of the community. We don’t want to disrupt the community and cause any distress. So we’re going to share the sidewalk and we’re going to make sure that other people can safely move through space as we do. So sharing what guides us is a really important start so that people immediately recognize, oh, this is how we act here. We wait for everybody at the end. We form a cheer tunnel, we end with a stretch. This sense of when it begins and when it ends. Because for me, there’s nothing more frustrating in feeling a complete loss of control. And that is an experience you have at some run groups where they don’t tell you where you’re going, how long, when it will end. And I wanted to make sure that people felt rooted and grounded. So these are, each of them is a simple thing to do, but culture is going to form whether you’re intentional or not. And I wanted to make sure that there was a culture of inclusion and really safety, psychological and physical safety.
Kara Bazzi (00:38:01):
So a lot of listeners that have followed the appetite know that that’s my histories in distance running. And I’ve been a runner for many, many years on teams, but since I’ve been off teams, mainly I’m a solo runner. And when you came out to Seattle, I never said this to you, but when you first moved out to Seattle and you gathered all those groups together, I didn’t even know what a running crew was. I had never heard the term, and I knew running groups existed, but I didn’t know the word crew. I had never really participated in a running group. And so I got curious, and then I did that event with you at Brooks and got to experience how you would lead a group. And it was so cool. First of all, it was like that space. It was notable that that was the most racially diverse group of people I’ve ever run with even. And I could even speak to the interesting part you said in the book, that is so true of track teams being more divided between distance runners and sprinters. And that was my experience at the University of Washington along the lines of race. So this was the most racially diverse group of people I’d run with. And to watch, again, watch what it felt like as a participant to do what you’re saying right now was really quite magical, honestly, of how many needs got met. And we talk about Opal movement in relationship to meeting
Alison Mariella Désir (00:39:32):
Needs.
Kara Bazzi (00:39:35):
So it really put these concepts into play in a meaningful way. And then I haven’t told you this either, but one of the takeaways for me in your book as a white runner was to get past my barriers of my neighborhood and being doing the easy thing running from my house or running with somebody really close by. And so I went to the CSRD run on Monday, on a Monday night. And that’s another organization that you’ve been a part of helping?
Alison Mariella Désir (00:40:07):
Well, I joined them when I moved here, David Jwan o, he dmd me and was like, welcome your family. So I’ve done a lot of collaborations with them.
Kara Bazzi (00:40:18):
Yeah, they’re great group of people. And I, again, got to see how they form their community.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:40:25):
The thing is that I often get the question, what can I do? Or how do I find black people? And there’s a piece of this that I talk about in my book. Everything is connected, that we all live in racial segregation, and it has been normed as okay and find, so we don’t question it. So this idea of where are the black people? Well, guess what? They’re probably on the black side of town that is intentional and you’ve never recognized it white person because you live in a world where you are the default and where segregation is normal. So that’s one piece of it. But yeah, I came to Seattle. It’s not like the population, the demographics of Seattle shifted in the past two years. It’s just that me as a black person who’s intentional in making relationships, I gather a group of runners, there’s going to be black people there. So it is not this impossible feat. It’s about what is the culture, what is the language, how are you showing up, who are you making friends with? All of that is a really critical piece of the work. So when people tell me they can’t, and then I ask them where they organize and they say, I’m in Miami, Florida. I’m like, are you kidding? Do you know how many black people are there? How many other communities of people, Haitians, cubits, right? We’re everywhere. How are you being intentional?
Kara Bazzi (00:41:47):
Exactly. One of the other things that I’ve been thinking about with that is for my daughter, I have two daughters, one in high school and one in middle school. But my high school or her school is 40% people of color and a higher percentage of black people than a lot of the high schools around here.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:42:03):
I need to send my son there.
Kara Bazzi (00:42:04):
Yeah. Well, it’s an all girls school. Okay. But the all boys school is also way more racially diverse. But interestingly, I just kind of have asked Sophia, what is it? How much interaction are there between the white students, black students, other students of color? She’s described a lot more segregation in the downtimes, like lunchtime and just beginning. Some of those just why do you think that is Sophia, and what does that look like for you? And these classrooms? There is the diversity is represented in their classes, and yet there’s that segregation during those times that she’s observed during those times.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:42:46):
And again, we just take it as though it’s fact and it’s not all of the history, all of your parents’ baggage, all of that is showing up when you choose who to sit with at the lunchroom. And I think there’s also, there’s a piece of it for marginalized folks where there is a cost to having close personal relationships with people of another. Well, with white people, I find myself often having to decide, okay, am I really going to go there with this white person or am I just going to let it go because whatever, it’s not even worth it. And there are a lot of instances where a white person will do something that’s racially insensitive or that is harmful, and I just let it go. I don’t really care about that. I mean, this sounds really rough, but I’m like, I don’t care enough to pursue that relationship.
(00:43:35):
I only go there with people in general, white folks in particular when I value the relationship. And that’s when I show up authentically as myself. And I actually had an encounter like this recently where somebody who remain nameless sent me a video on Instagram, super racist video, and I don’t even know where they were coming from in sending this to me. And I initially didn’t respond because I was like, this is a white person who I don’t care that much about. But then I realized that I have to do something with this white person in the near future. So then I had to say, it became my burden to say, this video was really racist, and I don’t know why you sent it to me, but it made me feel uncomfortable. Please don’t do that in the future. And I was like, that is, why is it my burden
(00:44:19):
To do this? So that is, if you look around as a white person or as a person with any kind of privilege and recognize, oh my God, everyone in my circle is exactly the same. I don’t have any deep relationships. Deep cross racial relationships, cross-gender relationships. You have to start thinking about the common denominator, which is you. How are you bump, exactly. What is it about you that does it, that other people don’t feel safe around you or feel like they can be authentic? And I am not perfect. I have a racially diverse group of friends. I have a gender diverse group of friends, but there are a lot of spaces where I’m like, wow, everybody in my circle is generally middle class. They’ve all gone to college. And so I get curious about that, and that’s important.
Kara Bazzi (00:45:16):
Well, and to your point, that recognition to make relationships you have do something to make relationships, to Exactly. To foster relationships, to take risks and relationships, to build relationships. I mean, all of that takes intentionality. It takes work. It makes you have to get out of your comfort zone. I mean, just risk relationships are risky in general. And then when we’re making relationships with people that don’t have all shared similarities to us, it could feel that much more risky.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:45:48):
I remember when I first met my husband saying things I started to recognize, I’d say things, nothing specifically comes to mind, but I’d sort of say things as, and growing up it was like this, and then my husband would be not for me. And then I realized, oh, of course not all people had this experience. And so me and my husband had to sort of address these class issues between our upbringing and then what that would look like in raising a son. But it’s because I actually deeply care about him that we went there. But if you start to recognize, wow, I never go there with other people, or there aren’t these differences, again, something to get curious about.
Kara Bazzi (00:46:28):
And I think another way that you are, your work and your willingness to invest in relationships with people that are different from you is I feel like one way of, again, pursuing this huge piece of all of the tension, the big political horrible tensions that I’ll think a lot of people just get so overwhelmed by and don’t see how we can make any meaningful change. And yet, I think this is a really a call to action in terms of it does make there is meaningful change. If you’re building relationships with people that are different from you, that’s actually how change is going to occur. You’re not going to cognitively convince someone to think otherwise. That’s how, that’s not how we change. We change in the context of being in relationship with people that are different from us and opening up our hearts and our minds because we care about somebody.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:47:24):
I absolutely agree. And there are a lot of discussions around this, again, around how does change happen? And there’s obviously interpersonal connection. A lot of people say, but these interpersonal connections don’t lead to institutional or systemic change. And it’s like, but hold on. Systems and institutions are run by people. And so if the people with power start to have these relationships and start to have emotional connections, well then it’s far more difficult to start banning trans people in Texas. If your son is trans, and if you love somebody who’s trans, then you recognize, wow, this is a human being just like me. So I think, yeah, we don’t want to just focus on the interpersonal. We don’t want to just feel good and have really great friends. We want to then show up in spaces where we have power and voice and we want to advocate on behalf of those people. So when I was a therapist, I was the same way as an activist. I deeply believe that the more we know each other, and this includes me when I make a lot of assumptions about people in rural America, but I have to remind myself that what they are searching for is also a sense of belonging.
(00:48:42):
So forget all the other stuff. How do we then address their needs or make them realize that we’re not trying to get rid of you? It is just more difficult than being divisive.
Kara Bazzi (00:48:58):
And fear plays a big
Alison Mariella Désir (00:48:59):
Role.
Kara Bazzi (00:49:00):
Fear of difference,
Alison Mariella Désir (00:49:01):
Fear of difference, fear of losing what you have. And that is what’s happening right now. People think that advocating for other people to have what you have means that you’re losing something. And it’s true when you have privilege, when you’re the only person who can walk in the front door, if suddenly other people can walk in the front door too, it feels like something has been taken from you. No, it’s just more people walking in the front door,
Kara Bazzi (00:49:20):
Which is, let’s talk about inclusion and exclusion. Let’s, because you’re talking right into that question about how you talk about the Boston Marathon and the specialness, the exclusivity of the Boston Marathon, that for those that don’t know, you have to qualify with a certain time. And it’s kind of been revered as this
Alison Mariella Désir (00:49:43):
Pinnacle experience
Kara Bazzi (00:49:44):
Because you’ve qualified and you’re somehow special for qualifying and speed makes you worthy. And you were invited to run in Boston Marathon as a team of female change makers, and you got that pushback about not deserving to be there because you didn’t get the qualifying time. And you write, why not change the system to welcome more people? Why not have a dialogue on ways to expand the race to more runners rather than shrink it? And I think your point is, I think people, to me, I think of the psychology aspect of comparison and how often we think of it as a finite amount of a resource
Alison Mariella Désir (00:50:25):
Scarcity.
Kara Bazzi (00:50:26):
The scarcity mindset. And so yeah, if anyone else is in your bubble, then something is being threatened from you. But gosh, how often are we challenging that to see that there actually is infancy here.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:50:38):
Exactly.
Kara Bazzi (00:50:39):
There’s infancy. It doesn’t have to be that because this person is good, because you’re a good book writer, doesn’t mean I can’t write a book.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:50:47):
And that’s something that I’ve struggled with. Well, imagine we all struggle with because that is, we live in a world that has this scarcity mindset that my book can be excellent, and this other book can also be excellent. But what happens is we’re all vying for a spot on the best books of 2022,
(00:51:03):
Which is so silly because it reduces all of these excellent books to this fin list. But back to the point, more specifically about Boston, I sat on my tour that, and yes, I do want to say that there are charity spots, but you have to raise sometimes $10,000 for a spot, which think about the financial resources you have to have, or the network. You have to have to raise that. But a person running a Euclid Kipchoge, his greatness doesn’t change. If I’m running a seven hour marathon alongside of him, he’s still running a two hour marathon. And I think as somebody who’s gone to Columbia University three times a school that has every year, the acceptance rate, acceptance rate gets less. What I’m advocating for is that all schools should have the resources and level of greatness as Columbia, we should all have access to that. We shouldn’t be vying for a spot at a school that has a 7% acceptance rate. I want more people to have access to education. But what we’ve swallowed was this idea that if we get into this highly sought after place, that we’re more deserving or better. And I know for every person that gets into the school, there’s somebody else incredible who didn’t get into a school, and that has nothing, that doesn’t deny that that person is great.
Kara Bazzi (00:52:18):
Totally. And it does continue to set up the system of seeing other people’s threats.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:52:22):
Exactly.
Kara Bazzi (00:52:23):
And then that doesn’t help build relationships.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:52:25):
Exactly.
Kara Bazzi (00:52:25):
And then we want to be more closed off, or we don’t want to. Yeah. I mean, it keeps that cycle
Alison Mariella Désir (00:52:33):
Going. Exactly. Everything reinforces that cycle. Not so surprisingly, the Boston chapter has ruffled the most amount of feathers, but I’m grateful for the people who have really stood back and recognized My issue is not with the Boston Marathon or with fast people. My issue is with a system of exclusion that people
Kara Bazzi (00:52:56):
Worship. Right, right, right. I know we’re probably needing to wrap up. Of course, I would talk to you, everyone says this too. I’m not alone. There’s no restriction in this. We all want to talk to Alison more than we get to, including my husband. What’s that? Where everyone wants just talk to you longer, but we must end. So yeah, I guess maybe ending on a note of hope, if there’s something that you have seen maybe on that systemic change level or relationship level that can lead to systemic change, anything that you have witnessed that offers you hope currently? I know that you’re a very hopeful person, and I also just that’s very, very attractive about you. And curious if there’s anything in particular that’s been offering you hope recently.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:53:49):
Yeah, actually. So I was just at the running event in TRE, which is an event that is for running retailers, so running stores and for brands, and they come together to share the latest product, excitement, et cetera, et cetera. And I attended and I was pleasantly surprised by how many black and brown people there were. Of course, it was still a very limited amount, but between the running Industry Diversity coalition and the running event, we’ve made some real strides in that. So there were real moments where I felt a sense of belonging. But what I did notice was that there were several women who had very young babies who were breastfeeding, and the convention rules said that you cannot have a stroller or kids in the convention center. Now, on the one hand, I understand if my son, Corey, who’s three years old, was allowed on the convention center floor, my goodness, it would be out of control.
(00:54:39):
But you’re talking about women with kids under a year old who are still breastfeeding, who need to be with their food source. And they were told You can only carry the children. So women who are supposed to be working have to have their baby on themselves. They can’t put them in a stroller, and then in order to go breastfeed, they have to go to some place very far away. And these women, when they were told these rules, they felt like they had to comply because it was a matter of getting to work or not. So I recognized this was going on. I’m good friends with Alicia Montano, and I’m now on the board of and Mother. So I reached out to Christina Henderson at TRE, and I shared with her this experience along with people’s testimonials from it. And we have a meeting to address that and look at how we can change the rules around this for next year.
(00:55:30):
And situations like that make me hopeful because I heard what these women were saying, and they didn’t have the power or the connection to go to the source and say, this shit is bananas. But in this case, I do. And so now I can help build what 2023 can look like. Now, a larger fight is getting the event out of Texas altogether, not wanting to support a state that is so harmful. And it’s not just that there are obviously amazing people within the state of Texas who are experiencing harm, and we should support them, but this idea of bringing all of this money to that state just doesn’t sit well with me. But recognizing that there are things that can be done, and this might seem like a small thing now, but maybe five years from now, we recognize that there are a lot more women who attend because they realize, oh, I can bring, or I should not just say women childbearing people, primary caregivers who bring their children because they recognize that they can do their job with excellence and not have to sacrifice feeding their child. So things like that make me really excited and energized around the kind of change that can take place within our industry.
Kara Bazzi (00:56:39):
I love just the specific example of that, of what does that actually look like? What’s notable to me in that too is thinking outside of the box, and has this question got asked?
Alison Mariella Désir (00:56:49):
Well, exactly. And again, I think about Nazi Germany and people who were just doing job. One of the women who had her daughter or had her son with her said that one of the people working at the convention said, well, but these are the rules. And it’s like, okay. But each of us has the capacity in that moment to think, is this rule equitable what if I just let it go and then tell my supervisor, or not even tell my super, what if I just let it go because I know that there’s something really wrong with this. Right. But also recognizing maybe that person fears for their job, but a lot of good people do bad things because they’re just following the rules.
Kara Bazzi (00:57:28):
Exactly. Or they just haven’t even looked to see what the other options are. Exactly. Honestly, I think of a lot of things that have changed over time at Opal, and there’s a lot of great ideas that have come to us that literally are actually easily changeable. Exactly. And because someone had a diverse perspective, a creative idea, they bring it and, Hey, look, we just made the system better. We just made the system more accessible, more equitable. Right.
Alison Mariella Désir (00:57:52):
And I do think, I said this thing about Corey not being allowed on the convention floor, but how about providing childcare at all events all the time everywhere. I would be so much more able to deeply invest in things if I knew I could bring my son and him get well taken care of. That is a world that’s a feminist view. A feminist view is one where it’s about gender equity and everybody having access. And as a primary caregiver, finding where I can put my son is a huge issue, so I don’t want to discount that. Right. I do want to challenge events. The next step is to provide healthcare or provide childcare. Like there’s a Solomon running series that actually does that. If it’s a half marathon and there’s childcare for children, that should just be standard. So truly anything and everything is possible. It just depends on whose experience and needs are centered and who’s in power to facilitate that, to
Kara Bazzi (00:58:48):
Facilitate change. Well, thank you. I hope that you, listeners, you enjoyed this conversation between Alison and I and there are so many ways of finding Alison. Alison, is there anything, we’ll do links in show sheets, but is there anything that you want to highlight? I know you mentioned your TV show. You want to say more about your TV show?
Alison Mariella Désir (00:59:08):
So my TV show is called Out and back with Alison Mariella Dier. It is a show that features black, indigenous, and other people of color who are reclaiming space in the outdoors. It airs every Thursday at eight 50 on Kcts nine if you’re local, but it’s available streaming on crosscut.com and kcts nine.com the day after. I would love if everybody checks out my website, Alison m as in mary dier.com. I’ll be posting my 2023 tour dates and event dates, and that’s a great way to stay up to date with all things, Alison, and obviously buy the book. Buy
Kara Bazzi (00:59:43):
The book, buy the book. My daughter’s cross country coaches, they all got one for their Christmas
Alison Mariella Désir (00:59:50):
Presents this year.
Kara Bazzi (00:59:51):
Perfect. It’s fun to keep thinking about who else am I going to buy
Alison Mariella Désir (00:59:54):
For? Yeah, it’s a every season, every big moment. This is a great book for that.
Kara Bazzi (01:00:00):
Yes, yes, yes, yes. Well, thank you and thank you all for joining us today. If you’re interested in, like we said in learning more about Alison, we will link those links she mentioned in the show sheets. And if you’re interested in Opal and want to learn more, please visit us at opal food and body.com. Thank you to David Bazzi for editing, Aaron Davidson for the Appetite’s Original music, and see you next time.
